#Relief for sinus pressure

[premierallergyoftexas]

Struggling with sinus pain, congestion, or recurring sinus infections? At Premier Allergy TX, we specialize in diagnosing and treating sinusitis to bring you lasting relief. Our personalized care plans target the root cause of your sinus issues, helping you breathe easier and feel better. Don’t let sinusitis disrupt your life—schedule your consultation today!

[darkmistandodddreams]

Everyone please take a moment to feel blessed if you don't have a headache right now! Everyone with headaches, I love you and we'll get through it!

[novapatientcarekingstownecenter]

Struggling with Summer Allergies in Alexandria, VA? We Can Help!

Sneezing, itchy eyes, sinus pressure? You're not alone seasonal allergies are hitting hard in Alexandria this summer. At Nova Patient Care Kingstowne Center, we offer quick, effective relief with same-day allergy treatment.

Fast walk-in visits Treatment for pollen, mold, and dust allergies Prescription refills & over-the-counter guidance Open 7 days a week in Alexandria, VA

📍 Stop by today feel better fast! 📞 Call us: (703) 348-9111

[kanemedicalaesthetic]

Is There a Connection Between Botox and Migraines Triggered by Weather Changes?

Migraines are complex neurological events that can be triggered by various internal and external factors, including hormonal shifts, stress, dehydration, and environmental changes. One commonly reported but often overlooked trigger is weather change��particularly shifts in barometric pressure, temperature fluctuations, or increased humidity. For people who suffer from these weather-related migraines, management can be frustrating.

Botox (botulinum toxin type A) has gained recognition not just as a cosmetic injectable but also as a preventive treatment for chronic migraines. But does it help specifically with migraines triggered by weather changes? This article explores the current understanding of Botox’s role in this unique migraine subtype.

How Botox Works for Chronic Migraines

Botox was approved by Health Canada and the FDA for the treatment of chronic migraines in individuals who experience 15 or more headache days per month, with at least 8 being migraines. It is administered in a standardized protocol called the PREEMPT regimen, which involves multiple small injections across the forehead, temples, neck, and shoulders.

Botox’s therapeutic effect comes from:

Blocking the release of pain-signaling neurotransmitters like CGRP (calcitonin gene-related peptide)

Relaxing muscles that may contribute to tension and pressure

Reducing the sensitivity of pain receptors in the brain and spinal cord over time

Botox does not stop a migraine once it has started, but rather reduces the frequency and intensity of future migraines over a period of months.

Weather-Related Migraine Triggers

Many migraine sufferers notice patterns in their headaches that align with changes in weather. Common weather triggers include:

Drops or rises in barometric pressure

Sudden changes in temperature

Storm fronts or high humidity

High winds or dry air

Exposure to bright sunlight or glare from snow

These changes can cause expansion or contraction of blood vessels, affect the inner ear and sinus pressure, or trigger inflammation—all of which can provoke migraines in sensitive individuals.

Weather-triggered migraines are not a different type of migraine, but rather standard migraines with unique environmental causes.

Can Botox Help with Weather-Triggered Migraines?

While clinical trials for Botox in migraine treatment didn’t focus specifically on weather-related triggers, real-world patient experience and anecdotal reports suggest that Botox may help blunt the response to environmental changes by:

Reducing nerve sensitivity to external stimuli

Stabilizing over-reactive muscle and vascular responses

Dampening the feedback loop that turns a mild discomfort from weather shifts into a full-blown migraine

Essentially, by calming the overactive pathways involved in chronic migraines, Botox may make weather-related triggers less likely to tip the scale into a migraine episode.

What the Research Says

There is no published clinical study that exclusively examines Botox’s effectiveness on barometric pressure–induced migraines. However, studies consistently show that Botox helps reduce overall migraine days, severity, and duration across diverse patient groups, including those with multiple or unpredictable triggers.

In observational studies and patient surveys, many individuals who suffer migraines during specific seasons or weather patterns report noticeable improvement after starting Botox therapy. For these patients, the reduction in frequency—even during previously "high-risk" periods like spring storms or winter chinooks—can be dramatic.

Additional Strategies for Weather-Sensitive Migraine Sufferers

If you suspect weather is a major migraine trigger, Botox can be part of your strategy, but other lifestyle adjustments may help as well:

Track migraines with a weather log to identify patterns

Stay hydrated before weather shifts

Use pressure-stabilizing earplugs during storms or travel

Consider magnesium or riboflavin supplements

Keep blinds closed and lights dim during high-glare periods

Maintain consistent sleep and caffeine habits, as your system may be more vulnerable during barometric swings

Botox should be viewed as a foundational therapy that may allow your nervous system to better tolerate fluctuations, while other techniques help support balance on a daily basis.

Who’s a Good Candidate?

Botox for migraines is not suitable for people with occasional headaches or tension-type headaches. It's specifically intended for those with:

Chronic migraines (15+ headache days per month)

A diagnosis from a neurologist or headache specialist

Previous trial and failure of other preventive medications

If you’ve identified weather as a major trigger and experience migraines frequently enough to meet the criteria, you may benefit from Botox as part of your overall prevention plan.

Conclusion

While no studies directly tie Botox to improved tolerance of weather changes, its ability to reduce the sensitivity and frequency of migraines suggests it may help lessen the impact of environmental triggers—including barometric pressure shifts, temperature changes, and humidity spikes. For individuals whose migraines are closely linked to the weather, Botox may not eliminate every headache, but it often reduces how many turn into full-blown episodes, improving overall quality of life.

As always, a personalized evaluation by a qualified healthcare provider is the best way to determine if Botox is the right option for your migraine prevention—especially if weather triggers play a major role in your experience.

[drsharad]

Top Solutions for Relieving Sinus Pressure - Dr. Sharad ENT

Explore a variety of proven natural remedies designed to Relieving Sinus Pressure and promote easier breathing. Find quick and effective solutions for sinus relief that have been known to bring relief to many individuals struggling with sinus issues.

[self-care-tips-free]

10 Natural Approaches to Soothe Sinusitis Symptoms

https://self-care-tips.com/post-details/10-natural-approaches-to-soothe-sinusitis-symptoms

[severedfromthesource]

Give it up for multiple arrests 👌

Getting a pulse back for only a few seconds, the brief pause in action as their rescuers think they caught a break. Then throwing themselves back into it once they arrest again.

Getting spontaneous breathing back, the patient opening her eyes and sucking in a breath. Rolling her head to look up at her rescuers, her caregiver askin a barrage of questions ("You know where you are? Squeeze my hand, focus on me sweetie") and the plummet when the patient suddenly goes still again, her eyes drifting as they unfocus.

Getting sinus rhythm back for a minute or two at a time between multiple arrests. The first time is met with relief when they get them back, then panic when their blood pressure craters and they lose him again. After the second or third time the team is hyper aware he's likely going to arrest again when they get him back, so the team sits there, stething him, waiting for that inevitable moment his heart stops again. But they got him back several times so far, they can do it again. They don't even lift their hands from his chest after a certain point as the time between arrests shortens. ("Come on... Stay with us, come on- fuck, he's out.")

Bonus with frustrated rescuers. Getting more desperate with each arrest as their own strength flags. Growling when their heart goes out for the second or third or fourth time, and they only get a few moments to catch their breath before they once more have to wrestle their patient away from death

[mooshkat]

'I knew it, you're sick.' 'Go away'

Tommy wakes up to a pounding fist against his door. Each knock raps in time with the throbbing in his head and he groans, trying to bury his face further into the couch cushion to muffle it. It doesn't work, and also makes him feel even hotter than he already is.

A sinus infection with a side of the stomach bug was not how Tommy wanted to spend his weekend, but he figures it was time for his yearly dose of getting sick to hit him.

He pushes himself up and closes his eyes tightly against the vertigo that threatens to make him sick–again. He's hardly been able to keep anything down, even water, no matter how many crackers he eats and the stomach relief medication he's taken.

When he stumbles over to the front door and rips it open, ready to yell at whoever is on the other side bothering him so badly, he's shocked to find Ev–Buck on the other side. Buck armed with three large shopping bags that knock against Tommy's hip when he pushes his way inside.

"I knew it, you're sick," Buck says as he sets the bags down on Tommy's kitchen counter. He starts unpacking them and Tommy is still reeling from opening the door to see his ex-boyfriend. Who's inside his house now. "Lucy told me you didn't come into work and wanted me to check on you since you weren't answering any of her texts. Guess she thought I still had a key."

Tommy doesn't have the mental energy to deal with this right now. He groans and presses the heels of his hands tightly against his eyes, which does little to ease the pressure in his sinuses. "Go away. You can tell her I'm fine and alive and go back home, Buck. I don't need a babysitter."

"I don't know if you've looked in a mirror lately, but you look like shit, Thomas." He cringes against the bite in Buck's tone, even though he knows he deserves it. "Go get into an actual bed and I'll start cooking up something other than crackers dipped in Pepto Bismol."

"Not to insult your cooking skills or anything," Tommy says wearily, eyeing the growing collection of groceries that Buck is setting out. There's way too much for just one meal. "But when I'm sick like this, I can't really keep anything down. The only thing that ever helped was—"

"—was your grandma's chicken noodle soup recipe, I remember." Buck doesn't look at him. "You keep the recipe card on the fridge, and I might have taken a picture of it one night after–..." After a date, a hookup, simply hanging out. He could've taken the picture at any time over the last six months. "Anyways. I'm pretty sure I have everything to make a batch that'll last long enough for you to get better, so. Go get some rest, Tommy."

Jesus, even after Tommy hurt him by cutting things off the way he did, Buck is still too kind for his own good. He wants to grab him by the shoulders and tell him that he doesn't deserve this kindness, doesn't deserve to be something to worry about anymore. He wants to shake him until the words stick and he lets Tommy go.

Please, let him go and stop giving him hope because this means something, doesn't it? But his heart truly cannot take it any harder than it already has. He blinks tears out of his eyes and clears his throat.

"Okay, Evan. Thank you."

[thecoldestsoldier]

The ice is always singing to us.

You hear all the stories about warmies and freezeheads alike, start saying they hear her, Europa is calling to them.

Scary thing is, she is, just not in the way you think.

The massive fractured ice sheets are always slowly grinding against each other, the tunnels are flexing, plume eruptions in the dark ocean below, battle noise, heavy machinery, mining. All this activity causes infrasound, sound levels lower than 20htz. That shit has no problems travelling through solid objects at long distance, ice sheets, ocean, metal, whatever it cuts right through. Humans can't hear it, not with our ears, but our bodies still feel it and because we feel it but don't hear it, shit gets a little weird.

Infrasound sends some people insane, batshit crazy, coco bananas. SO's fucking know about it too, they just don't like to put it out there, don't want to encourage people to focus on it.

Good news is, it won't affect everyone. If you grew up getting bombarded by it, say a station rat, a spacer, miner, living somewhere near a terraformer, big cities, heavy machinery. You'll be fine, you're used to it.

If you're from someplace remote, peaceful and quiet, or you just so happen to have a sensitive inner ear, wrong sinus configuration, unlucky skull structure or pre existing anxiety? Unlucky, it might just send you to lalaland.

There are a few things you can do though, for yourself and your squad.

Ask your med tech for a counter frequency device, we call it our nightlight. Creates a buffer space of relief from the infrasound that you never knew was hammering into your soul. They're cheap but Command is cheaper, so they won't give 'em to you unless you ask.

Lucky for my squad, our medtech was onto it. She was a real brainy type, saw the signs in one of the guys and set one up around camp before he lost it. As soon as I stepped into the counter freq field, I immediately felt this pressure just lift and melt away. It was like a heavy feeling of dread gripping my heart, that I didn't even know I was carrying. I dunno, it was weird. As if someone pulled a knife out of my ribs when I didn't even know I'd been stuck.

The suits are supposed to have a layer of sound dampening gel but it deteriorates over time and... we all know they keep just recycling these things where they can. If you can get the suit tech to replace the sound dampening gel in your helmet and chest it will help a lot. Might need to butter them up though.

Stay frosty out there soldiers. Don't listen to her whispered siren song, gently singing us all to the bottom of her silent, dark ocean.

[drakulana]

when you're sick // law x gn! reader drabble

⚝ summary: you get sick and law takes care of you, gn! reader

⚝ content: sick reader, no pronouns, no y/n, law takes care of you, very short and sweet!

⚝ wc: 855

⚝ a/n: i've been sick so this is just something a little fun i wrote. i hope you enjoy!!

✩࿐

you never really took getting sick seriously. it didn’t happen often, and when it did, it usually passed within a couple days. it started out as the sniffles. you thought it was just a cold, so you went and got some cold medicine from the infirmary. it wasn’t something you thought was worth telling your captain. you made it through the day completing all your tasks without any problem, thankful to fall into bed that night. the next morning, you woke up with a raging headache. it was undoubtedly from all the sinus pressure that had set in while you were asleep. you were hoping to sleep off the sickness, but instead it presented a new symptom. the headache. still, you didn’t tell your captain. there was no reason to bother him about a headache when you could just go into the infirmary and get some more medicine. so that’s what you did. you took the same cold medicine as yesterday, and took some with you for later on in the day. as the day went on, you could feel your symptoms growing worse. the stuffy nose turned into constant sneezing. the drainage turned into a bit of a nasty cough, and the sinus pressure turned into puffy watery eyes. for a second, going to see your captain crossed your mind, but it was so late now. so you went to bed, hoping to sleep off whatever ailment you had caught, once again.

you woke up in a cold sweat. your bedsheets and blankets stuck to you, and chills had overtaken your body. your body ached. the dim light pouring in from under the door hurt to even look at. your head felt like it had been split open. the sounds of your crewmates chattering and walking up and down the corridors getting ready to work was amplified, and was not aiding your headache in the slightest. it was time to get up. it was time to go to work, but you seemed to be almost bed ridden. you cursed yourself. you knew as soon as your captain noticed you weren't present he would come looking for you. he was not going to be happy that you failed to tell him that you were sick. until then, you decided that you were going to get some rest. you closed your eyes, and let the darkness consume you.

you spent the next hour in and out of sleep. no matter what position you were in, everything hurt. you could hear footsteps approaching your room. a knock sounded on the metal door, making you groan a weak come in, at whoever was at the door. you knew who was at the door before they even knocked. it was law.

the harsh white light from the hallway spilled into your room, making you shield your eyes. the light was blinding, and just as you thought it couldn't get worse, law flicked on the light switch in the room. "please turn the light off," you croaked out at your captain to which he complied, mumbling a soft apology. he walked over to your bed, looking down at your sick figure. "why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he tutted, reaching down to feel your forehead. he sucked in a breath at the feeling of your burning skin. his hands were cold, and you leaned into the soothing touch. "you have a fever," he stated the obvious. he removed his hand from your head and let out a sigh before turning on his heel and leaving, wordlessly. shutting the door behind him, the darkness of the room brought relief to the pounding in your head. however, it didn't last long. a few minutes later your captain was back. he had a wet washcloth in hand, a thermometer, some medicine, and some water in hand. he pulled up a chair next to your bed, laying the cool washcloth across your head. the coolness soothed the pounding just enough for you to be able to relax a bit. "open," law commanded you, and you complied, opening your mouth. "under your tongue," he commanded once again, as he put the thermometer in your mouth. you sat there with the thermometer in your mouth for a minute before law checked it, "102 degrees. you really should have come and gotten me whenever you first started feeling sick. we could have avoided this," he lectured. a quiet, i'm sorry, left your raw throat. law looked down at you, pitifully. "drink this water, and take these," law opened the water bottle, and poured two pills into his palm. he helped you sit up, his cool hands resting on your back. his touch almost relieved the aching in your back, rubbing light circles as you took the medicine. law helped you lay back down, fixing the blankets around you. "now rest," he told you as he reached over to the bookshelf across from the bed and grabbed a book, "i'll be here if you need anything," he told you. having no energy to protest, you closed your eyes and let the black consume your aching body.

✩࿐

@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent

Taglist: @shuujin , @pinksaiyans , @buttmishaaaa, @tokaio, @augustanna, @sukilovesyou, @mschoiyuki, @songinabottle , @starlightanyaaa, @elen-alambil, @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

[becky-resus]

Against the Clock

The wail of sirens pierced the cold night air as the ambulance screeched to a stop outside the ER. The back doors flew open, revealing paramedics hunched over the still form of a young woman. Becky, 25 years old, was barely clinging to life after a head-on car collision. Blood smeared her face, and her chest heaved irregularly beneath the oxygen mask strapped to her pale face.

“Female, 25, restrained driver, head-on collision. Unstable vitals, GCS is 6. Possible internal injuries. BP dropping—70 over 40. She’s fading fast,” the lead paramedic barked as the gurney was pulled out.

The trauma team, led by Dr. Miller, rushed to meet them. Every second counted. Becky’s limp body was wheeled into Trauma Room 2, where the bright overhead lights exposed the full extent of her injuries. Blood had soaked through her torn clothes, pooling around the gurney.

“Strip her down!” Dr. Miller commanded, his voice sharp and decisive. A nurse cut away her shirt and pants with a pair of scissors, exposing a bruised and battered torso.

“Suspected rib fractures—looks like blunt force trauma to the chest. Check for a pneumo,” Dr. Miller ordered. Becky’s abdomen was distended, her pale skin mottled with purpling bruises that hinted at internal bleeding.

A nurse called out Becky’s vitals, her voice clipped. “BP is dropping—62 over 38. Heart rate 130 and climbing.”

“She’s circling the drain,” muttered one of the junior residents as Dr. Miller assessed her pupils.

Becky groaned faintly, her lips twitching as if trying to speak. “Becky, can you hear me?” Dr. Miller asked, shaking her shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered, but there was no response. Moments later, her head lolled to the side, her body going completely limp.

“She’s unresponsive. Let’s intubate,” Dr. Miller said, already donning gloves. The room erupted into action as the team prepared to insert an endotracheal tube. Becky’s breathing became shallow, her chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Is this head trauma or internal bleeding? We need a fast ultrasound—now!” Dr. Miller demanded.

The hum of the ultrasound machine filled the tense air as the resident slid the probe across Becky’s abdomen. The black-and-white image confirmed what they had feared: free fluid. She was bleeding internally. Before the team could act, the heart monitor emitted a single shrill tone.

“Flatline. Asystole!” a nurse shouted.

For a split second, the room froze. Then chaos erupted.

“Start compressions!” Dr. Miller barked. A nurse climbed onto the gurney, positioning her hands over Becky’s sternum before pressing down in rhythmic, forceful compressions. Becky’s chest caved under the pressure, her broken ribs grinding audibly beneath the nurse’s hands.

“Epinephrine. Now!” Dr. Miller ordered. Another nurse grabbed a syringe and injected the drug into Becky’s IV.

“Charging to 200!” the resident with the defibrillator called out.

“Clear!” Dr. Miller shouted. The team stepped back as the paddles discharged, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through Becky’s body. Her torso arched slightly, then fell back to the table. The monitor remained flat.

“Resume compressions!” Dr. Miller snapped. The nurse returned to the relentless cycle of chest compressions, her hands moving with precision as sweat dripped down her temple. Another round of epinephrine was administered, but the monitor stayed silent.

“Come on, Becky,” Dr. Miller muttered under his breath.

The minutes stretched on like hours. Compression, defibrillation, drugs—the process repeated again and again. The room was thick with tension, the steady rhythm of compressions punctuated by the sharp tones of the monitor and clipped commands from Dr. Miller.

“Let’s go again. Charge to 300. Clear!” Another shock was delivered, the force jerking Becky’s body upward. For a brief moment, the monitor flickered.

“Sinus rhythm!” someone cried.

A weak but steady pulse appeared on the screen. Relief flooded the room as the nurse slowed her compressions, her arms trembling from the effort.

“She’s back,” Dr. Miller said, his voice tight with focus. “Let’s not lose her again. Stabilize her for the OR. We need to get that bleed under control.”

Becky’s breathing was shallow but steady as the team secured her airway and connected her to a ventilator. The nurses adjusted IV lines, pushing fluids and blood products to stabilize her pressure.

“Ultrasound confirms a ruptured spleen,” the resident reported.

“Prep her for emergency surgery,” Dr. Miller said.

Becky was wheeled out of the trauma room and toward the OR, her life still hanging by a thread. Dr. Miller stood by the door, watching as the team disappeared down the hallway. His gloves were streaked with blood, his scrubs damp with sweat. The room was a battlefield—discarded gloves, empty syringes, and wrappers scattered across the floor.

“She made it this far,” Dr. Miller murmured to himself. “Let’s hope she keeps fighting.”

The trauma room was silent now, save for the faint beep of the monitor and the murmur of distant voices. Outside, the night carried on, but for Becky, the fight was far from over.

This is a perfect scenario for me. Where does it go is surgery successful or do I code on the table.

[brightlotusmoon]

Barometric pressure headaches are triggered by changes in atmospheric pressure, often experienced before or during weather changes such as storms or altitude shifts. These pressure variations can cause imbalances in the air-filled sinuses and cavities within the head, leading to pain and discomfort. The exact mechanism involves the body's inability to equalize pressure effectively, resulting in tension and inflammation in the sinus and blood vessel walls. To prevent barometric pressure headaches, individuals can monitor weather forecasts and plan accordingly. Staying hydrated, maintaining a consistent sleep schedule, and managing stress levels can also help reduce susceptibility. In some cases, using a humidifier to maintain stable indoor humidity levels may provide relief. For those with severe or frequent headaches, consulting a healthcare provider for personalized strategies and possible preventive treatments is advisable.

[shamefilledsnzblog]

Intro Post

Hello snzblr! Not sure what to say about myself here, but, uhh... Am mid-30s, she/her. Love writing about my silly OCs, and love to chat about them! Feel free to DM if you wanna share OC thoughts, I love hearing about other people's too! My OCs

My Fics:

(Fics should be stand alone, but the timeline jumps around because I write whatever I happen to be feeling at the time. If you want to read them in chronological order, they're arranged in a rough timeline here)

A Friendly Wager (Perry, wine induced sneezing)

A Not So Triumphant Return (Perry, allergies)

Silence in the Library (Perry, allergies)

A Desperate Cover-Up (with Part Two, and Part Three) (Perry, cold, eventual sinus infection)

Good Morning (Perry, unspecified cause)

A Roll in the Hay (Leofric, itch kink with a little sneezing, hay)

Explorations (NSFW, Perry, allergies)

Under Pressure (Perry, sinus infection, ear infection, feverish whump, cat allergy)

Satisfaction Denied (Serafina, cold)

Before the Storm (Perry, allergies, asthma)

Ill-Prepared (Mayna, cold)

Tease (NSFW, Perry, wine induced sneezing, allergies)

Against All Sense (Part Two) (Part Three) (Perry, cold)

A Dismal Journey (Perry, cold)

My Fanfics:

Relief (Part One) (Part Two) (BG/3, A/starion, allergies, cold)

[nature-is-punk]

Yarrow and its Uses

Disclaimer: The below is the culmination of tedious, scrupulous research meant to assist with magical and medicinal practices. However, we lack a variety of lab-conducted herbalism trials in humans, so precautions are necessary. None of the below represents medical advice or is meant to replace treatment by a medical professional.

Identification and Profile:

Appearance: White, yellow, or pink flowers bloom from March to October. Very strong sweet smell. Often mistaken for hemlock or queen anne’s lace; leaves and flower shape are the most reliable identifiers for telling these three apart.

Distribution & Habitats: Native to temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere. Thrives in meadows, roadside ditches, grasslands, and open forests. Attracts predatory wasps, ladybugs, and other beneficial insects. Reduces parasites in the nests of birds such as the common starling, who line their nests with it.

Associations: Yarrow was found in a neanderthal burial site in Iraq, suggesting its use by humans for more than 60,000 years. While yarrow has impressively consistent medicinal usage across cultures - namely healing and inflammatory pain relief - cultural and spiritual connotations vary. Yarrow’s botanical name refers to the legend that the centaur Chiron taught Achilles to use yarrow on the battlegrounds of Troy to heal wounds. Across the British Isles, yarrow was used to assist women in finding husbands, from divination to sleeping with the flowers under ones’ pillow. In Europe, it was known as a witch’s herb, occasionally called the Devil’s Nettle.

Uses: Topical: Effective antibacterial, astringent, antifungal, and antiseptic agent and can be applied to wounds to deter infection, speed up healing, and soothe inflamed or irritated skin. Ethanol extracted essential oil is the most lab-studied form of topical application, though dried flowers can be powdered, applied as whole dried flowers, or made into poultices and salves to wounds to stop bleeding. Oral: Flavonoids of yarrow make it a powerful antispasmodic and decent anti-inflammatory, most often used for gastrointestinal disorders. Yarrow can also induce sweat to break a dry fever. Essential oil of yarrow heals stomach ulcers. Navajo people chewed the leaves to reduce tooth and gum aches or inflammation in the mouth. Mild laxative properties. Mild sedative when consumed as tea. Tea also can be consumed to reduce headaches and cold symptoms, and sterols in yarrow can regulate menstrual cycles. Inhalation: Boiling the plant and inhaling the steam can reduce headaches and sinus inflammation. Dosage: Oral dosage is 2-4g of dried herb, flower and leaf, or 3g of whole flowers. Consecutive use is not recommended for longer than 2 weeks.

Interactions & Side Effects: - Adding nettle to yarrow consumed orally can reduce oxalate burden on kidneys. - Possibly an abortificant by relaxing the uterus, and may reduce breast milk supply while breastfeeding. - Increases production of stomach acid, lowers blood pressure, and increases risk of bleeding for those on blood-thinning medications. - Also interacts poorly with lithium based medications by increasing the body’s lithium retention.

[conversationsofyou]

                Chapter One:

The Only Living Boy In New York

"Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world." 

~Marilyn Monroe

        

Song: Manhattan by Ella Fitzgerald & Buddy Bregman

Present day. 

The perfect ringlets that form naturally at the ends of Harry's hair, which were there this morning, have metamorphosed into effortless beachy waves most people envy. The usual result from Manhattan humidity and overly fussing about with his fingers. It's a shampoo commercial moment as it falls against his back.

Harry squeezes the bridge of his nose, a temporary relief from sinus pressure. "Are we done?" he asks with his eyes closed.

He wonders if Zayn would notice if he took a kip on the chaise by the toilets. 

                   

“Never,” Zayn responds whilst his nimble fingers sort through a display of Celine totes.

He would.

To Zayn's dismay, Harry's met his limit of consumerism for the day. He typically loves to shop; specifically when it's time to restock his art studio. Although, he's accustomed to leisurely drifting in and out of thrift shops and vintage boutiques. He allows clothing and accessories to find him. This… this has been an Olympic event. Zayn warned him beforehand that his rookie status wouldn't be tolerated today.  

After an extensive marathon of pampering and excess, Harry's eager to go home and decompress from their shopping extravaganza. He loves Zayn fiercely, but Harry's borderline fatigued. This is the sixth or tenth store they've been to; he's lost count. Each one, serving a different purpose. Zayn had to explain this to him, like he did at the last three stores. 

"This isn't one of your nifty thrifty's, darling. There's no one-stop shop for all our needs. Well, maybe Bergdorf's." 

A crash course in fashion's utility as such has been mentally and physically strenuous. If they’d concluded this field trip after facials at the spa and mimosa brunch, Harry’d be in complete nirvana.

However, the tranquil mood a much needed massage had granted him has now been replaced with extreme tension in his muscles. His sciatica keeps jolting his nerves into spasm and his toes are most definitely numb. He would've worn trainers instead of his beloved boots if he knew it was going to be this intense.

"It costs a lot to be this beautiful," Zayn throws some more fortune cookie wisdom his way as he picks up a Louis Vuitton bum bag. 

"I lost my soul somewhere between Mercer and Broome," he responds dryly.

"We can't all be as cool as you." 

“Matt got this shirt for me in Tokyo,” Harry tugs at the end of a vintage Queen t-shirt from the eighties. 

Zayn looks up at him and smiles softly. “He had the best finds. I know it's sentimental, but I also know for a fact that Matt would've told you to buy whatever the fuck you please after selling out your first exhibition. This is a triumph for you. You're allowed.”

"I've bought some things since then." 

"Interior design excluded." Zayn's mouth twitches. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry concedes. "So, what's on the menu here?" 

There's no other option than to swim with the current force that is Zayn.

He looks at Harry, contemplating his wardrobe journey. "This place has phenomenal denim…" He holds his hands in the air, scanning the store, like a director setting up their next frame. "Thinking of some new washes. You'd look fabulous in a mid-blue rinse." Zayn turns back to him and tilts his head. "There are other colors besides black." 

"What's wrong with black jeans?"

"Nothing. Doesn't mean you have to wear them every day. You're not Superman."

Harry arches an eyebrow. "Aren't I?" 

Zayn ignores him while admiring a Givenchy satchel. He adjusts the collar on his gorgeous Alexander McQueen gunmetal leather jacket. It's not nearly cold enough yet for the biker chic inspired hide, but as he declared before they left Harry's flat, “We must suffer for fashion the same way we do for art."

Zayn glances over at him. "I do adore your vintage, starving artist tees and ripped jeans." He offers some reassurance. "Even though you could do with a little glam rock." Though he often makes fun, Zayn's admitted in the past he approves of Harry's style choices. No matter how eccentric they are. His eyes land on Harry's boots. "Starting with those." 

Harry looks down at the worn out brown leather boots he found at one of the first thrift shops he visited in the city. He treasures them. They've given him so many miles. He'll never part with them.

He looks back up. "No." 

“Veronica!” Zayn calls out and, like a best laid plan, a tall sales associate appears with silky raven tresses styled into a long bob haircut. Veronica approaches them wearing a stunning bordeaux Bowie inspired jumpsuit. Lipstick the same shade. It captures Harry's eye instantly.

She walks over and magically produces a large box with the Saint Laurent Paris logo printed onto it. Ignoring the box, Harry scans the details of Veronica's ensemble as he admires her whole look.

Zayn catches Harry's eye and asks, "Who makes this?" As he brushes a finger over the fabric of her sleeve. 

"Custom," Veronica responds vaguely. 

It's unique and Harry can understand her discretion. 

"H, you'll sympathize as an artist. When anything innovative or gorgeous as this is mass produced, it usually turns to shit. There's something about a piece being one of a kind that's priceless."

Veronica nods her head once.

"I wouldn't share either." Zayn nods back and brings the focus back to Harry, who automatically shakes his head at the box he's holding.

Zayn clears his throat, ignoring his stubbornness and signals for the big reveal. Veronica lifts the lid and Harry swears a little golden light appears, leaving a glow shining from the box.

 

Zayn tilts the box closer to him for the full effect. "Harry, let me introduce you to your new friend, Chelsea."

He holds up the gorgeous, buttery tan suede heeled boots. "Classic and a forever staple." 

"My mother, grandmothers, and aunts all passed down their retail D.N.A. to me. These," he gestures to the boots, "are an investment." Zayn imparts some more wisdom.

Harry ignores his rising heart rate and briefly hesitates. Inevitably he gives in, running his fingers along the soft leather. The sensation is divine and smells heady in the best way possible. Boots have always been his weakness. He succumbs.

"Fine," he says like it's an imposition and grabs the boots. 

He sits down to try them on and takes off his old boots while placing the faded leather comrades next to a plush chair beside him. He's wearing his Hello Kitty socks today.

"Precious," Veronica comments and walks away towards another customer who's borderline distressed.

Song: Get On Your Boots by U2

Harry meticulously takes out all of the cardboard and packing paper. The boots slip on like a second skin. He stands up, beaming.

"Yeah. Thought so," he smirks. Zayn's super hero sixth sense always prevails. He knew Harry would eventually buckle for the gorgeous footwear.

Harry spins around in front of the mirror and does a little jig with his toes pointed.

Zayn shakes his head as he walks away. "I'm going to look for some jeans."

Harry gives him a salute and walks around the store, enjoying the boots that have already changed his life a little bit. They even have a slight heel. The soles produce a satisfying clacking sound against the stone floor as he strolls back to his old boots. They look so sad, slouching against the chair, out of shape and worn with holes. Harry frowns and picks them up. He knows it's corny but, "Still love you the best. Thank you for taking me where I needed to be," he says quietly.

Someone within his ear shot snorts, and he gently drops the boots. Harry looks up slightly embarrassed.

☆ This was definitely more than a snippet. A snip deluxe. I'd love to one day finish this fic I started seven years ago. All the inspo to my fellow writers and creators who have started something and life has gotten in the way or time is not of the essence. I empathize and relate on all levels.

Shout out to my Beta, Lau @nyxdaughterofkhaos , nothing but love and respect!!! Looking forward to continuing this journey with you ❤️

As always, if anyone has any art to share.

@kingsofeverything @crinkle-eyed-boo @twopoppies @beelou @fallinglikethis @femstyles @harryshandbag @andyouknowitis @lookslikefairytale @rhea-the-eradicator @toomanydreamers

[ladylooch]

I’ve had a long day and I just wanna cuddle with timo imagine Emma and timo cuddling 🥺

-🌸 anon

A/N: Oh no bby. I must have known cause I had this idea of Em being sick and really leaning into T. So, here is Timo and Em to brighten your day 💕😘

The second I open the door to the mudroom, warmth covers my chilled body. I set my work bag down on the bench then slowly lower myself down to it as well. I sigh, closing my eyes and rubbing at my temples, searching for relief from this sinus headache. A shadow dances across the kitchen floor in front of me. I can see a baby on his hip as he moves. I smile despite the awful, persistent ache in my throat. 

An illness started washing over me after I left home earlier this morning. I kept trying to push through- drinking water, attending meetings virtually, keeping my distance from others. I had meant to head for home around 3:00pm, but then the caterer for an event on Friday called. They had a fire in their kitchen and could no longer support the number of attendees. 

So instead of heading home, I worked until 7:00pm, making frantic, pleading calls to all my contacts in New Jersey until I finally found one who owed me a big enough favor. My voice was giving out as I was saying my goodbyes to them.

Tenderly, I push myself back standing, groaning at the aches settling into my body. I sway slightly, dizzy from the pressure in my head and the change in position. I move into the kitchen where Lio is guzzling down some water from his Devils sippy cup while his dad finishes loading the dishwasher.

“Hi mama.” Timo smiles over his shoulder. “Long day?”

“Yeah.” I respond. Timo’s smile drops immediately.

“Baby, you sound terrible.”

“I feel worse.” I murmur, walking towards him. I pause, look at Lio. “I should stay away. You have a game tomorrow too. I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

“Absolutely not.” Timo scoffs. “He’s is ready for bed. Go sit down on the couch. I’ll make you something to eat when he’s down.”

I nod, then wander into the living room. I lay down on the cream couch, falling asleep immediately after my boys disappear upstairs. I awaken to Timo brushing my hair off my cheek. 

“I think you’ve got a fever.” He murmurs, extending his hands forward with water and Tylenol. I sit up, then a cough suddenly shakes my shoulders. Timo pouts, rubbing my back. “Time for bed.” 

“I haven’t eaten today.” I confess. 

“You? Skip meals while working? Never.” 

“I’m sick. Don’t lecture me.” I whine. He wraps an arm around my waist. I cling my hand to the back of his shirt for stability as we head up the stairs. 

“Get changed. Get in that bed. And I’ll be back with something to eat.”

“Baby, I wanna cuddle.” I moan, grabbing his wrist when he turns.

“I’m going to infuse you into my body when I get back up here. But you need to eat something. Your body needs nutrients to fight whatever you have.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. His lips brush against the end of my nose, making my eyes close. “Love you, baby. Go get comfy.”

I do as I’m told, tucking myself into all of Timo’s clothes. When he comes back into the room with a sandwich, he smiles softly at me.

“You look so cute.”

“I’m pathetic.” I say after blowing my nose. He hands me the plate, watching me until I take my first bite. 

“Whole thing.” He circles the plate, then motions to my mouth.

I eat four more bites, almost half the sandwich before I literally cannot keep my eyes open anymore. Timo takes the plate from me then gathers me into his arms. He leads my leg over his hip, tangling his hand into my hair. He gently rubs his fingers into my scalp, releasing more tension as I whimper. Chills shiver my body, so he tucks me in even tighter, bringing the covers up above my shoulders. Feathery kisses are placed along my face. Timo brings his other hand to my cheek, stroking my red skin.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, baby. Wish I could trade places with you.”

“If you keep kissing me you’ll be miserable too.” He chuckles.

“Love you so much I wanna share all your germs.”

“Shhh.” I murmur, bringing my finger up to his mouth. He kisses along my finger, working his mouth into my palm. He then moves my hand to cup his side. “Love you, T.” I barely mumble before I’m drifting off again.  

Several times during the night, I wake up because I’m coughing so hard. Every time, T sits up with me, rubbing my back. I whimper after the latest one. My fever is coming back and my teeth begin to chatter in my mouth.

“I’ll get you some cold medicine this time.” He says, walking into the bathroom. “All we have is kid stuff for Lee.”

“I’ll take it.” I croak out. 

He hands me the dosage then disappears back into the bathroom. 

“Come here.” He whispers, gathering me back into his arms. “You are staying home tomorrow. No work.” I nod. “I’m going to skip morning skate to take care of you.” I nod again as he pulls me tighter into his chest. His lips ghost my hair. I melt into his strong body, appreciating how well he is taking care of me. “I’ll take Lee to Lexi tomorrow night for the game. Pick him up after. You’re only job is to rest in this bed.” My nod is extremely lethargic this time. His lips softly brush over mine, barely connecting. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, holding him down to me.

“There you go again… loving me perfectly.” I feel his lips tilt up.

Then his hand presses into my lower back, trying to devour me into his chest until there is no me or him, just us.